Earl of Gold (Lords of Scandal #7) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,19

had completed her first season but had yet to make a match. Her father was a marquess and extremely well-connected. He’d write to him after his bath.

Because he needed to take Penny out of his mind.

Penny stood in front a mirror as she pulled garment after garment out of the box. Her face heated as a silky chemise slipped through her fingers. Had Logan picked this out for her? Or had it just been the modiste? Next came stockings and garters. Not the serviceable fabric she currently wore but fine gauzy material that would be delightful against her skin.

Even more so because she imagined he’d touched them.

Heat flashed across her face. She looked in the mirror to see her bright-red reflection and her normally pearly complexion resembling a beet.

Someone gave a hard knock at the door and then entered without waiting for permission. “Why are you blushing?” Clarissa asked as she flopped on Penny’s bed. Then she gasped as she picked up a stocking. “What is this?”

“Clothing for dinner with a duke.” Penny shook her head. “Logan gave it to me.”

“Logan?” Clarissa arched a brow. “Do you mean the Earl of Goldthwaite?”

Penny felt her cheeks flame again. “I know. He’s an earl and I am the poor purveyor of a ramshackle orphanage. I haven’t forgotten.”

Clarissa’s shoulder rose up. “Whatever else you can say about him, he doesn’t seem to be giving you these things just to tumble you into his bed.”

Penny snatched the stocking from her charge’s hand. “What do you know about tumbling?”

Truth be told, Penny didn’t know that much about it either.

“I know enough to know that our situation would be far worse if you found yourself carrying a child.”

The very idea of bearing a child made her skin flush but not with embarrassment. Pleasure at the idea of touching Logan’s skin coursed through her. And carrying his child…longing made her ache. She bit her lip as she dropped her head to hide her reaction. “Clarissa,” Penny said sharply. “I am not going to get pregnant.” She drew in a deep, steadying gulp of air. “But it does beg the question. What are his motivations? When I first met him, he didn’t strike me as a man intent upon helping foundlings. In fact, he seemed quite eager to be rid of me that first night. But the past few days…did he change his mind? He doesn’t strike me as a man who usually engages in charity. Why us?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I don’t know. But as long as he does, isn’t that what’s important?”

Penny supposed that was true. Though from the beginning she hadn’t understood his motivations and the why of them bothered her more and more.

Because, somehow, her feelings were starting to become involved. He’d rescued her in more ways than one. And he was so very handsome. When she slid her hands over him earlier to treat his wounds, sparks flew from his skin to hers.

She forced her mind from these thoughts. “Can you help with my hair?”

“Of course.” Clarissa bounced off the bed once again. “But I want to touch all the clothes.”

Penny smiled. “You don’t even like to wear them. Stockings or shoes or corsets.”

Clarissa shrugged. “I don’t like to wear those confining boots. Silk slippers, that might be something different entirely.”

Penny drew in a breath. Was that a dreamy tone to Clarissa’s voice?

But she let her friend be as Clarissa twisted her hair in fancy twists and turns, even winding some ribbon through her thick locks. Then she helped Penny dress, gently stroking each and every garment. When she was done, the rest of the girls came in and danced around Penny, declaring her the most beautiful woman in all of England.

A knock at the front door interrupted, and Clarissa slid out of the room to open it.

Penny started down the stairs too, the girls still twirling about her.

When she reached the top, Logan already stood in the entry of the house, looking dapper in his black evening wear. Except for the bumps and bruises on his face, of course.

Natty ran down to him, taking his hand. “Doesn’t Miss Penny look beautiful? Like a real-life princess?”

Her skin once again heated, not a flattering color to go with the pale purple of her dress, she was certain of that. But she felt out of place in her fine clothing. No, that wasn’t it exactly. She wanted him to think she looked beautiful in them. Like she might belong in his world, even if her place was